Helping
by slashyking
Summary: After Sirius' funeral, Remus comforts Harry and helps himself in the process. Remus Sirius slash. Not exactly angsty but hurtcomfort. I love the ending, it's slightly fluffy, but the rest is sad. Enjoy, Read, and Reviewing makes me a happy boy! Enjoy!


A/N: Well, I'm finally posting, this took forever to finally work its way onto my computer. I was stalling, not because I didn't want to write it, but becasue, frankly, I didn't want it to suck or become a waste of time, but here it is. My RLSB slash...I wanted to write this for so long, I love this ship. But sadly I don't own them, or any other HP character, that honor belongs to J.K.R. Hope you enjoy, be wary, this is kinda sad. I like the ending though. Enjoy.

Helping

The rain came and made the day even gloomier. Ironic that it rain on his funeral, you think? That's beside the point; I stood, the water making a pat-pat sound on my thick coat as I huddled with the others to stare at a lone headstone and no grave. The bad thing about having a funeral for someone who was taken by the veil is that you can't bury them and honor their dead corpse. I'm to some extent happy I don't have to see him again, it would make today a little harder to cope with. Too many tears and a breaking heart along with the dead body of someone I care so deeply about, no thanks.

After everyone paid their respects to the headstone, strangely enough, I stayed to just look at it, just for a little while longer; hoping some force of magic or another could make him come back. Come back to me and all those who need him. Harry is so trodden; he couldn't even keep himself together to talk to the engraved rock. I really wish I could help him, I don't know what to say. But then again, I never know what to say. And besides, he hasn't talked to anyone for a week. If I talk to him, he'll just end up crying and telling me to leave him alone. So, I'll leave him be and stay and watch the rock, wanting answers and a miracle.

"H-hi, Pads. I know y-you aren't h-here b-b-but I just want-ted to say goodbye. I'll never f-forget you, n-n-never in a million y-years. Goodb-bye, Sirius." Bloody hell, I hate my stutter, I hope it's just the cold. I didn't want to say goodbye, this wasn't over, but I couldn't help it, I felt the need to say something meaningful, even if I knew it wasn't true. He isn't gone; at least, he won't be gone forever. Something has to change, everything else has, why not this? The thoughts swirled and racked my brain in a sickly way, making my head hurt. I needed to leave this place.

The rain had died down a bit, slightly foggier than a few hours ago, but nothing too bad. My leather shoes squeaked and cried on the wet sidewalk while slowly trudging to Grimmauld Place with only streetlamps to keep me from the darkness; it was a new moon. Only the light drops of the rain onto the pavement and the cars on other roads seemed to echo through the street on this chilling night. I dug my hands deeper in my wooly coat and tried to stay warm enough to get back before I froze.

Finally reaching the right road, I waited patiently for someone to help with the door situation. While I stood, blowing hot air between my palms to heat them, I looked around just to occupy time. There were trees, the gridiron gate, and a few street lights; nothing new. But, off in the distance, trotting under the last light on the lane, a large, black dog came into focus as it took its place under the yellowish glow. My heart started racing, were my eyes fooling me? I blinked a few times, then rubbed my eyes a little. He was still there, just standing, looking at me. And I looked right back, too engulfed in hope to move. Was it really him? Soon, a voice came into earshot distance, it called and whistled for someone, the dog's ears perked up and turned to meet his owner, an older man in his fifties, I presume. No, it wasn't him, just another dog and just as its owner and he walked off, most likely to their home, the door appeared and I was greeted into the familiar home by a very solemn Moody.

The Order was staying here for a few days to recuperate before heading their own way, I decided to stay and help the best I could with anything they needed, being apart of the Order as well. Seeing as everyone was either sleeping or getting there, I took off my soaked coat, placed it on the coat rack, and decided to light the fireplace in the den, to brighten and warm up at least one room. The crackle and hiss of the fires was calming, I took it all in while sitting quietly in one of the chair, comfy and big, but torn and old; expectedly here for a house this old. Sitting and just watching the fire lick at the wood, devouring it with its dangerous beauty.

After dozing off for only a few moments, my acute hearing caught sound of something, someone, more actually. Harry would be my best guess. My curiosity enticed, I walked slowly up the creaking wooden stairs. The sobs were getting louder and I could tell now they were in fact the young boy's. I knocked on the door softly, as to not surprise him. The sobs subsided shortly and a muffled, "Come in," came from behind the room. Opening it and peeking inside, I saw Harry sitting on his bed as everyone slept peacefully around him. Maneuvering my way through the maze of beds, I found Harry's and sat gingerly beside him on it, looking to him sympathetically.

"Harry?"

"Remus, I'm fine, I just can't stop crying." A sad chuckled sounded from him as he took off his glasses, cleaned them, and wiped his eyes of the pesky tears. Invulnerably, I took the young teen in my arms and held him, trying to soothe him the best way I could. His arms came around my waist; his head lay on my chest as he began to cry again, not as loud this time. As I stroked his hair, he spoke, but I could not understand what exactly came out of his mouth. I pulled him from me only slightly, to see his face but not enough to deprive him of the embrace.

"What was that?" I asked sadly smiling at the boy.

"I said, 'why did he have to die'...he didn't do anything, he only helped. He didn't deserve to die. Why did they take him, Remus, why?" He started up the water works; I pulled him closer and hushed him.

"Oh, Harry. I ask the same thing every day; please don't cry...I want to tell you something."

He sniffled and relaxed himself as best he could; a hiccup or two came up, but he wasn't crying as much.

"What do you want to tell me?" Raspy was his voice, but soft were the words it held.

"Well, everyone is just stuck on how dreadful it was for him to go and be gone from us; I want to keep the good memories around, it' better that way. So, I want to tell you of the first time I met him, and your father. It was my first year, I was sitting in one of the compartments alone when there was a knock and a sliding open of my door. Three boys were standing, peeking in.

"The tallest of the boys was wearing glasses and he said, 'I'm sorry, we didn't know anyone was in here, we'll leave.' But I told them I didn't mind having a little company so they filed in and I got a better view of them all. There was a short, blonde boy tagging along behind who I later came to know was your father. And then the last boy came in, he had long black hair, falling over his shoulders and brow that nearly covered wondrous steel-grey eyes. He smiled like a Cheshire cat and stood with a somewhat pride about him. He sat beside me and stuck a long fingered hand to me. He said, with a braggadocios tone, 'The name's Sirius. Sirius Black, of the Infamous Black's. And these two buggers are James Potter with his little cling-on, Peter Pettigrew. Who might you be?' I took his hand and told him. Sirius thought I had a weird name but your father liked it. Shortly after getting off the train the four of us became inseparable."

"Why'd you tell me that, Remus?"

"Just wanted to tell you, I felt like sharing it, and to think of the good times I had with them. Your father and I became very good friends quickly. I was shy as a child and he took care of me, while Sirius seemed to pester me and bother me about my girlish antics. Romance novels, which, mind you, were for Muggle studies, and my skinny, feminine frame. But, after third year, we started becoming closer than ever. After sometime, he grew on me, making me apart of his pranks, talking to me when I was lonely. He was also the first one of the Marauders I told I was a werewolf; I felt I could trust him with it more than the others. I would have told your father, but he was such a gossip, I didn't take that chance."

Harry laughed silently at that. And I continued.

"And when I told him, he wasn't that shocked, I left every month and came back with cuts and scars all over. The Infirmary nurses had to have known but I didn't think Sirius would look that into it, until he told me..."

I trailed off and felt almost embarrassed to finish. Harry looked up at me questioningly.

"Told you what?"

"Well, he told me that...that he...loved...me." It came out in a jumbled mess and a hot blush crept to the surface of my pale, delicate skin. Harry's eyes grew wide and he looked to me, his eyes screaming, 'Are you joking with me?!'

"Now, I won't be the first to say I was shocked too, for the longest time, he ignored me, teased me, and occasionally charmed me to do his bidding but that day it all made sense. He had a crush on me. The whole I-like-you-so-I'll-pull-your-pigtails kind of thing was going on between us, I didn't mind, he was immature and I just let him be so. After that, we didn't speak for a few weeks, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were.

"But after the next full moon, he came to me the morning after with clothing and blankets, since the Shrieking Shack was not a place for warmth. He was so kind to me after that, I had almost thought James put a charm on him to make him this way, but I could tell it was all Sirius." I took a small pause to laugh openly. The pun never gets old.

"So...you and Sirius were...um...a thing?" Harry was kind of dodging his own question, but I wanted to tell someone.

"Yes actually, we were, but it took sometime make things work. We didn't tell anyone, it was ours and ours alone, not even your father knew. But soon, we felt we couldn't keep it from the others, we were the Marauders hold no secrets, except my lycanthropy, of course, which I told the other two in 5th year. But we said what needed to be said and everything went well. Not well for James' sake, him and Ev-your mother weren't getting along to well; he really didn't want to hear that we were getting more luck. Your mother and father were quite the sight to be seen in those days. But that is a tale for another day."

Harry nodded and pulled me back into another hug.

"Thank you for being here for me; I can see why Sirius liked you so much."

I almost wanted to cry at his words, it felt good to help, I love being there for anyone, and especially Harry, he was so much like James, if only I could have helped _him_. At least I have his son to give back for what I could not do. My thoughts were brought to an abrupt end when Harry spoke again.

"Will you stay with me, for a while, until I fall asleep?" His voice was so hurt, I couldn't deny him.

"Anything to help, Harry. I'm here for you." And with that, he settled into his bed, took off his glasses and eased himself into slumber; which took only twenty minutes. Before leaving him, I pulled the covers up, seeing as they weren't covering him that much, it was getting colder. I kissed his hair fatherly and whispered a goodnight, then left the room.

I closed the door as quietly as possible and made my way back to the fire that was now dying out. I replenished it with more wood and sat watching it once again. The conversation with Harry brought back so many memories; our first kiss, our first fight...the first time we made love. I pushed back these thoughts and concentrated on the fire once again. But my mind couldn't hold that for too long, the thoughts poured back into focus, playing in my head over and over again. Salty tears stained my face as I thought of the days before his death, we were so happy, and now, he was gone, with nothing left behind for me but his memory. But, just then, a spark fired up in my mind, there were photos. I rushed upstairs to the room I had previously occupied before getting my own apartment.

Digging through the many drawers, I searched for that one photograph, the one that meant so much to me. Where was it? Many minutes of search came to an end when I found it, just as good as the day it was taken. I smiled, holding it to myself and hurried back downstairs.

Sitting back, I stared at the picture for hours, just hoping it would relieve some of the pain in my heart. The picture was taken in fourth year, it was by the lake, under a large tree; I was reading and stroking his hair as he lay in my lap. In the picture, Sirius moved up from my lap, pushed away my book and kissed me softly, startling me from my serene state.

The picture always made me smile. I never wanted to let go of it. And I didn't, and soon, my eyes began to shut and sleep took over me, the lush and colorful dreams swept across my mind. A beautiful mix of love and life, Sirius and I, together, always.

The Next Morning

Harry woke to find the surrounding beds still occupied and the sun just barely spilling in through the glass of the window at the far side of the room. He grabbed his glasses and dressed clumsily, going to see if anyone was up. He was hungry.

As he casually strolled to the first level of the house, still slightly shaken up from the day before, he passed by the den and had to stop and look at the sight before him. He saw Remus sitting comfortable in the same chair as he was in last evening, the embers of the fire dying silently, the photo still in his hands, placed softly over his heart, and a small smile gracing his lips.

Harry smiled and walked on to the kitchen and thought to himself, 'Remus must have found a way to help himself after all he's done for us.'

End.


End file.
